


Loose ends and snippets

by willowthorn



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 19:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20981258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowthorn/pseuds/willowthorn
Summary: This will be a collection of short works and warm ups. Tags will be updated as chapters are added.First up: Fero, untold decades lsterCurrent: Mx. Reverie's return to Mr. Magnificent's estate





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to definitelyfinch for the prompt

The ground opens up, the great expanse of the branch below him breathing an extended sigh as rain rolls over the mossy valley far beyond the cave walls. Fero can feel it come in, can hear the excited twittering of birds, of frogs, of fish and ferns through his blood. He only needs to turn an ear towards them. He stretches as he moves, a coyote yawning, a fox flicking its ears, a bird arranging it's feathers. He is old now, fluid as the water that cuts through rock as he walks as a halfling through the world, face turned to feel the warm kiss of summer rain soothe against the lines and wrinkles of his face. He thinks of his old friends, of the wry smile of a God he once knew. He wonders if his frown lines were quite as deep, if the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes make him look as wise as Samol. 

The young ones call him a trickster now, so he must look wise enough, he thinks as he shakes rain from his coat, his coyote head poking through the underbrush. They see how cataracts have made his vision blurry, and they say he can see their souls. He doesn't need his eyes to know what kind of people they are, he just needs his ears. He told that to one of them once, and laughed as they ran, a hoarse cackle that floated over them as he fell into a flock. 

The lonely house at the edge of his valley smells of pine and the heat of a cooking fire. His knuckles ache as he pushes the door open, his whiskers tingling as he slides through the door, a tabby far older than it had any right to be. 

There is a woman warming her feet by the fire, hands like tree bark. Her grandchild pokes at the embers, bright hair and slightly pointed ears blurred in the heat. Her friends are a human, a half-elf, an orc child with curly hair so much like his great-grandfather's. He can smell them, almost familiar, on her as she scratches his chin, her voice sweet and bright as she says his name. She asks if he wants some soup, or if he would rather get warmed up first. He curls his claws into the rug below him, settling in. 

The rain grows heavy against the roof, the plants outside bright green, stubborn as they drink in the sky. He drinks tea with a family that is not his, old bones warm. He will leave when the sky is clear, and they will smile and thank him when his claws dig through their garden, turning the soil to get the roots. They call him a trickster, they call them an old friend, they call him a lazy cat, they call him by name.

When the rains come again he will visit the old Nurmacher house, a panther that likes to perch on the shoulder of the young man that lives alone there. Fero will listen as he talks through magic he thinks is old and strange, and he will remember old friends.


	2. For his constitution - echo/grand, regency au

Mx. Echo Reverie returned to the estate in the midst of a storm. Wind whipped at them, their riding cloak pulled tight around them as they guide their horse to the stables, the great black steed shaking out its mane as the reins were handed to the stable boy. 

Echo didn't bother to announce themselves, the butler ushering them upstairs to meet the one they had been parted from for so long. The butler trails after them, huffing at their hasty pace. "You must not alarm him, Mx. Reverie, I'm afraid he's been afflicted with a terrible melancholy. I should hardly let you disturb him, why, Madam will have my head if-"

The noise falls away, their very being bent towards the unlocking of the door, the silhouette starkly outlined by the rolling night sky and the glow of a low-banked fire. Grand rises slowly, the book he was not reading dropping from his hands as he moves from his perch as if in a dream. Echo takes one step, two, and finds their arms full of the man. He's pale, as if mid-swoon, as if he truly did not expect to see Echo ever again. Echo presses kiss after kiss into his trembling hands. "I'm here, I'm here. Do not fret, my love, you're not condemned to bachelorhood quite yet." 

"Why did you not write?" His hands, steadier now, reach up to brush their damp hair away from their face. "I was worried you had…."

"You need not say it." Echo leans into the touch, hands lingering on Grand's waist. "I sent a letter as soon as I could, but I'm afraid I must have beaten it. I heard you had taken ill." 

"Just a bout of melancholy, nothing extraordinary. Come, let me help you out of your riding gear before Miss Kept hangs me for letting you track mud everywhere." He moves as if he does not wish to be parted from them for more than a moment, their coat hung over the arm of a chair as Echo fiddles with their cufflinks. The rain had soaked them completely. 

"It does get worse when the weather turns, doesn't it? Why not come with me - I'm sure a bit of travel and sea air will ease your ills." They feel Grand's hands slow, pausing for a moment before pulling the ribbon from their throat. He wraps it around his fingers, setting it carefully on his dresser. 

"...I would like to, but you know I cannot. My obligations keep me here. The estate-"

"Your sister can manage the estate. She's more than capable." Grand moves away from them, leaning out the door to call for a maid to fill a warm bath. 

"It shouldn't be more than a moment, shall I call for tea after? I'm sure it'll be no trouble. Some fruit, a bit of bread…" 

"Mag." Their hand finds his wrist, his cheek. Their gaze is level, their grip uncompromising. "Come with me. At least for a time."

"I'm afraid I will be nothing but a burden to you. When… when these spells first came upon me, my family would send me to visit my cousins, would ship me all over in the hope that something might ease my misery. It would work for a time, but it was never the cure they hoped it was." He remembers days where he would feel normal again, playing billiards and going on rides with his cousins. He remembers those days growing few and far in between, his chamberlain unsure what to do when he wouldn't rise unless pressed, would hardly eat, wouldn't touch his paints or any other fine thing he had brought to fill the days when he could not go beyond the walls. 

"I want you with me. I'm no physician seeking to cure your ills, but I am your lover, and whatever turmoil that comes is better faced together than apart." Grand sighs, eyes closed as he accepts Echo's touch. He wavers slightly, and Echo is there to steady him, to pull him back with cool hands and warm lips.


End file.
